Jim's Confession
by BarkingatJim
Summary: After watching TNOT Bars of Hell for the umpteenth time I was still left with a question and I thought Artie probably was too. I hope this goes some way to answering that question. If not, or if you didn't even think there was a question then I apologise.


**Jim's confession**

 _(An epilogue to the episode The Night of the Bars of Hell)_

It was the day after the Wanderer had left the small western town wherein James West had almost found himself the first person in the country to be executed by electric chair. Even the thought of the possibility of such a fate had caused him to imbibe just a little too much bourbon the night before and so he was late getting up the next morning and when he did try and leave his bed his head was so painful he found himself sitting back down again which only jarred his brain and started the discomfort all over again. Cautiously lying back down, he thought back over the events of the day before.

On previous missions he had been pretty confident that his colleague and friend would have his back and if he ever couldn't get himself out of a pickle, that was usually caused by his own recklessness, he could at least rely on Artemus Gordon to come to the rescue, usually with the requisite impenetrable, (by others that is), disguise and on the very odd occasion without one.

This time had been an exception or so James West had thought when he had found himself looking certain death in the face. His usual savoir-faire in the face of danger had totally deserted him and his thoughts and ideas had been on only one thing, how in hell he could avoid being strapped into the electric chair and fried to death. He had fought with everything in him and had, for an instant, managed to throw off the restraining hands of the prison guards. But it had been futile and in the end he had been caught and strapped down with a gag in his mouth so that he would not be able to alert the executioner to the fact that he was not the intended victim. If he hadn't been in such a pure funk he might have realised that said executioner would have found it odd that the prisoner was wearing an expensive suit instead of the regular prison garb and was also obviously too young to be the real Gideon McCoy. Then something remarkable happened. Just as he managed to regain his composure, deciding that if he couldn't prevent the inevitable then he would ensure that he died with the dignity with which he had lived, the executioner entered the room and as soon as a he spoke Jim knew it was Artie and he felt such relief it was hard to hide it from the warden and his guards. That unfortunately had not been the end of their adventure in the prison though.

Even through his hangover he was aware that by now Artie would also have been pondering events after he had rescued him from the chair and there would be some questions to be answered. He decided to make sure he had at least two cups of coffee inside him before he had to face his partner. Hopefully Artie would already have a pot on the stove because he couldn't face either preparing or drinking a brew of his own making.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

As it happened, while Jim was attempting to get his act together, Artie was drinking his second cup of coffee having eaten a delicious plate of eggs for his breakfast.

Jim appeared in the doorway of the varnish car. "Oh good, coffee," he said walking over to the pot and pouring himself some. He then sat on the couch and nursed the cup in both hands as he took a mouthful and savoured the restorative liquid with his eyes shut.

"Too much bourbon, huh?" Artie asked.

Jim opened one bleary eye and attempted to glare at him. The only effect it had was to make his head hurt and Artie smile. "I am perfectly aware of my situation," Jim said. "I don't need you to remind me."

Artie chuckled. "All right, I won't speak to you again until you are back in the land of the living. That should take at least two cups of coffee if I know you. But then I want to talk to you about what happened at that prison."

Jim groaned. He knew exactly what Artie was going to say and he really would rather not sit there and embarrass himself. "Three cups," he said, trying to negotiate more recovery time and thus delay the inquisition.

"Okay, seeing as it's my coffee and not the vile, strong muck you make," Artie agreed. "That could shock a dead man back up onto his feet, no problem, let alone revive an old reprobate like you."

Jim gave him a sour smile and continued to sip his coffee.

"Do you want me to make you breakfast?" Artie asked.

"I thought you weren't going to talk until I had drunk at least three cups of coffee."

"Suit yourself!"

"Scrambled eggs would be nice."

Artie scowled and headed for the galley, mumbling under his breath.

"Still talking!"

"Hard boiled eggs coming up!"

It was Jim's turn to scowl but he gave Artie a crooked grin when he returned five minutes later with a plate of eggs scrambled in butter and a little milk which he placed in front of his partner. Then he sat down and picked up the newspaper.

"Thanks, Artie," Jim responded before digging in.

When he had cleared his plate and emptied the coffee pot he looked up and saw Artie close the newspaper and fold it before placing it on the table.

Jim sighed. It was time to face the music.

"Okay, time to talk," Artie announced.

"Fine, I know what you're going to say."

"Good, I'll get to the point then. When Jennifer McCoy asked me to dispose of her uncle's executioner I decided to take his place instead. What I didn't expect was to find Federal Prison Inspector Charles Lane sitting in the electric chair."

"Ah that…I can explain that."

"Please do."

"I couldn't escape; I was punch drunk. The warden made me fight a giant named Kross."

"Knowing you, I'm assuming you won."

"Well…yes.."

"Then you'll have to think of something else."

Jim thought for a moment. "I was suffering the after-effects of being gassed in my hotel room?" he offered up.

Artie merely shook his head. "Nice try. What puzzles me is why you didn't at least try to escape from the dungeon you mentioned. You had the metal solvent I put in your boot heel."

"Yes..well…as to that…"

"You might as well tell me."

"When you were explaining what it was I wasn't actually listening."

"You what!?"

"I'm sorry Artie. It wasn't until we were in that cell together that I thought of getting you to tell me what it was so we could get out of there."

Artie remembered what Jim had said to him. _'Remember that stuff you whipped up a few months ago?'_

"So you walked around with the metal solvent in your boot heel all that time without knowing what it was?" Artie sounded exasperated.

"I just forgot about it until I was trapped in that dungeon and then I realised I didn't know what to do with the stuff or if it would even be any use in that situation."

Artie palmed his forehead. Then he gave Jim a steely glare.

"Right, you are coming to the lab with me right now and we are going to go through every single thing that I have already or might in the future equip you with. And this time you are going to listen."

"Is this really necessary?" Jim tried to wheedle out of it.

"James," Artie said. He hardly ever called him that and his tone sounded serious. "I don't want to even contemplate what would have happened if I hadn't been the one to walk into that room instead of the real executioner."

Jim gave him his best apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Artie."

Artie put a hand on his shoulder. "I know," he said. "I might not always be there to rescue you, Jim, but hopefully I will have equipped you with something that you can use to save yourself. Only you have to listen to me when I explain what it's for."

"I get it, Artie, I know you always have my back and I do appreciate it. I should have listened to you."

"Right let's go to the lab."

Jim followed Artie out of the varnish car.

"By the way," Jim said, "that little book you had last night with all the names and addresses in, those weren't the only entries in there were they?"

Artie turned to him and winked. "Let's just say I may have run into a few women in need of saving as well during my time in that town," he said.

"Good old Artie, I knew you wouldn't let me down."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Fin


End file.
